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Master Bawan awoke one day to find his wrists shackled
together, and likewise his ankles. With great difficulty he
struggled to his feet and began to hop to his door to seek
aid, only to fall face-first onto his rug with a loud thud.
Looking backwards he discovered that his shackles were
themselves chained to his bedposts.

The master only lay upon the floor and sighed; for he had
lived at the Temple many years, and such odd awakenings did
not surprise him anymore.

It was then he noticed that a great wooden barrel had been
placed at the foot of his bed. Squirming over to it, he
found it filled to the very top with thousands upon thousands
of keys.

Bawan had tried no more than a hundred when the
old scribe Qi entered without knocking and seated himself
besides the master.

“That appears tedious,” observed the scribe.

“It was at first,” agreed Bawan. “Then it became
irritating, then frustrating. But as I awoke with a full
bladder, it has now passed on to urgent.”

“Well, do not let me distract you,” said the scribe,
producing a thick sheaf of paper. “I had only stopped by to
discuss the design document you asked me to review. I must
commend you on your level of detail: every requirement is
captured here, as is every database table, column, and
constraint; every screen mockup, use case, test case, and
error case; every package, class and method; the services
provided and the third-party libraries consumed,
right down to the configuration parameters and instructions
for deployment. Your table of contents alone is three
pages long.”

“I strive to be thorough,” said the master, tossing aside
another key.

“It is curious,” said the scribe, flipping through the pages.
“Every paragraph will undoubtedly be useful to someone, but
though I pored over your text for many hours I could not
glean the simple overview of the system that I needed. Back
and forth through the pages I went, unwilling to give up,
for I was certain the fault lay with my own eyes. I
felt... how would one put it...”

“Trapped?” suggested the master, pulling another key
from the barrel.

“An excellent choice of words,” said Qi.

“I will prepare a suitable high-level design document for
you, no more than a few pages with simple diagrams,” said
Bawan, fighting the chains in an attempt to cross his legs
as he jammed the next key into each of his locks without
success.

“When it is convenient,” said the scribe with a bow. “It appears
you have more pressing matters to attend to. And time,
as always, is our enemy.”